


The Strength of a Bond

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Series: Symbiont Circle [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternative Relationship Structures, Communication, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Mind Injuries from Trying to Force Heal, Non-Graphic Aftermath of a Bomb, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Submission, Offscreen Non-sexual Kink, Other, Vague Clone Death, Vague Wounded Clones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 03:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15721407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Anakin tries to ascertain if he and Obi-Wan can still be close, in the wake of all that's happened.





	The Strength of a Bond

**Author's Note:**

> In case you haven't read the other stories in this series...
> 
> Padmé is a person who is allosexual, romantic, and masochist. A healthy, content life for her includes sex with a romantic partner (Anakin), and a partner(s) who can provide for her other need, which for her, is separate from her sex drive.
> 
> Satine is a sadist, and has a long symbiotic relationship with Padmé that predates the marriage to Anakin. It is not sexual, and not romantic. Obi-Wan has been involved for fewer years... but also before the Anakin marriage. Also not sexual, or romantic relationship with Padmé, though it is intimate.
> 
> Padmé royally fripped up, marrying the love of her life without telling him she was kinky. She was scared to death of him rejecting her if he knew, and in the process stepped all over his right to choose, his consent to being in a relationship with someone with very strong, intimate ties to individuals Padmé does not sleep with and who she is not in love with... but who are crucial to her physical and emotional wellbeing.
> 
> Anakin has learned of his wife's unexpected needs, and both panicked and lashed out violently at everyone involved, and even a few not involved. Fortunately, Satine is not a being who intimidates easily, and she kept her cool so they could actually communicate.
> 
> Now Anakin has to decide exactly where he stands on all of this, and if he can ever trust Obi-Wan again. Things are tricky when technically Padmé was seeing Obi-Wan first, before Anakin even re-met her in Attack of the Clones... and she didn't give her kink partners heads-up of the marriage until after it happened. A series of poor choices now have to be untangled, each of the four finding out exactly where they stand now.

 

Obi-Wan's shoulders sagged as he turned to look out at the wounded. The Separatist bomb had left civilians and clones alike littered on the ground.

_I cannot save them all._

Not even a fraction.

He turned to the being closest to him. He had to start somewhere.

A clone. A shiny.

Obi-Wan sank to his knees beside him, summoning all his strength and willpower, struggling to feed it into the dying man, struggling to draw the damage and pain away—

“Sir. It's over.”

Obi-Wan looked up, trying to make his eyes focus. He thought it was Cody leaning over him, but he wasn't sure.

“They're all being cared for now; and those left are dead. It's time to get back to the cruiser.”

Obi-Wan tried to stand, but other than his foot scraping across the ground, he remained kneeling in place.

“You saved a lot of lives, General. Time to save yours.”  
Exaggeration.

Always exaggerating.

It was dark. With light spilling in from the east.

_Sunrise? That makes no sense._

It had been midday when the battle ended. And after helping the shiny, he'd moved on to the next, then the next, the next...

He hadn't looked up once.

If it had been such a long time, he would have known. No way he could have focused for that long; couldn't do it on a good day, let alone so drained already—

Just going to sleep here.

Yes.

That seemed the thing to do.

A warm hand fell on his shoulder, squeezing. “Come on,” murmured a gentle voice, a loving voice—

A wrong voice.

That voice would never be aimed for him in love again.

When hands pulled him up, he tried to cooperate and stand, but his knees wouldn't hold, they kept bending in funny ways— he thought it hurt but he couldn't quite tell.

And then he was swaying, and he experienced a moment of profound dizzy confusion.

And then it made sense.

_I'm being carried._

A mind stepped between the raw and tattered remnants of his own and the untamed pulses of the Force, to shield him.

Probably a good thing.

If someone died nearby, with Obi-Wan's soul this open and drained—

_The shock alone would kill me, drag me with them._

He should probably be more worried about that, but this place was fuzzy... and it was so damn hard to think....

And he didn't particularly want to wake up from this dream too soon, to be faced with his shattered friendship with Anakin.

It had been one of the best things that had ever happened to Obi-Wan Kenobi, and now it was gone.

It would take some time before he was okay again.

Some time.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan stirred, feeling the pain and heaviness that always dogged his steps after healing. Only he'd never gone this far before, never lost so much of himself in the process. It felt like he still _might_ die.

“You awake?”

Obi-Wan went very still, not opening his eyes, trying to decide if feigning sleep could actually succeed...

“Come on, Obi-Wan. I know you're conscious.”

“No. I'm not,” Obi-Wan mumbled, half in dread, half in grumpiness. Could Anakin restart their fight  _after_ Obi-Wan had recovered a bit more, perhaps?

“How about you open your eyes and see that I'm not here to yell at you?”

Obi-Wan squinted a disbelieving eye open at him.

“I talked to Satine.”

Obi-Wan's heart lunged into his throat.  _Here we go._

“She tried to explain... stuff.” Anakin looked down at his hands. “I did it— I talked to Padmé. And I guess we're okay.”  
Obi-Wan watched him, still worried. That hadn't exactly been a declaration of confidence.

“I don't want to lose her, and she says she doesn't want to lose me. But I don't think this is going to work for me.”  
There it was. Obi-Wan kept his voice neutral as he said, “You're going to make her choose between you and us.”

“No. If I do that, I cross a line that I don't want to cross, Obi-Wan. I don't want to turn what we have into something she should be rescued from.” Anakin's shoulders sagged. “But the jealousy hasn't gone away. Even though I know, I heard them, I believe they're both telling the truth— I could  _sense_ it— I still  _resent_ it, Obi-Wan, and— I resent  _them,_ and  _you,_ and I hate it. Why can't I just  _trust_ her? Trust you? Why do I need  _everything_ from her?”  
Obi-Wan struggled to sit up, and Anakin was there, gentle hands propping pillows and easing him back. “Thank you.”

Instead of sitting, Anakin hovered, looking down at him, a pensive but dogged expression on his face. “I don't want to be the villain. Please. I don't want to hurt her, I love her so much.”

“I've missed you,” was what Obi-Wan found himself whispering.

Anakin's face crumpled. “And I you, but there's part of me that's still so  _angry_ with you and it feels like I've  _never_ been enough compared to you and here's just one more thing I have to share with you.”

Obi-Wan reached for him, and Anakin accepted his hand with his own.

“Help me,” Anakin begged.

Obi-Wan squeezed his hand as tightly as his weakened frame could manage— a rather pathetic flinch. “What you have with her isn't enough for you to be happy? You want more?”

“Same way I want more power.” Anakin looked down, tears escaping him now. “It's like this black hole inside, Obi-Wan, and nothing's ever enough. I have a wife who adores me, an amazing Padawan, and  _you—_ but I don't know how to be content, Obi-Wan. And this ravenous hunger is going to  _drive away_ all three of you, but you're  _best parts of my life._ ”

“How far are you willing to go to break free of the hunger?”  
Grim eyes met his. “Whatever it takes. I  _can't_ drive the three of you away. Can you help me?”

“I can,” Obi-Wan replied, his honesty in his eyes along with his trepidation. “But it would be painful, difficult, and take time. A  _long_ time.”

In Anakin's eyes he could read the determination that was so often set against him.

_Is there hope for us?_

His body dragged at him, needing more rest.

Obi-Wan tried for one more weak squeeze of Anakin's hand before he succumbed once more to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Anakin sat beside him, still holding Obi-Wan's hand, watching him as he slept.

It had been easy, too easy, to hold anger and hate in his heart towards this man. But here, seeing that face locked in the vulnerability of sleep, feeling the heart and mind still being protected by Anakin's shields, since Obi-Wan was far too weak to re-craft his own—

_I know how much you love me. You would die in a heartbeat for me. You've watched over me, helped me in every way you could see how._

_And yes. Padmé is right: I need you in my life._

There was a  _reason_ why sitting by this man's bedside felt right when Obi-Wan lay weakened. There was a  _reason_ Anakin's heart had bolted into his throat when he heard of the casualties, and knew in his soul Obi-Wan would never be able to just walk away from people suffering so terribly.

The pride, fondness, and gentleness that had flooded his system when he lifted Obi-Wan from the ground...

_I lost sight of how much I love you in return._

Movement in the doorway drew his head up to see Ahsoka.

“How is he?” she murmured.

Anakin gave a nod. “He'll be alright.”  
“Will he?” There was something wistful and heartbreaking in her eyes.

Anakin held out his free arm to her. “I'm sorry, Snips.”

She hesitated in the doorway. “I hate it when you fight.”  
_Me too._ Anakin's gaze fell from hers to find Obi-Wan's slumber-calmed face.

“I need both my dads, Anakin.”

Startled, his head snapped up to stare wide-eyed into Ahsoka's own tear-obscured orbs.

He let go of Obi-Wan's hand and moved to the door, dragging her into a hug.

Ahsoka clung to him, silent sobs racking her form.

“I'm going to fix it,” Anakin swore. “There's too many people at stake.”

“Can you really look at him and think he would  _hurt_ you?”

Anakin peered over her head at the still form.

_The man who put his entire life on hold to raise me and still hasn't really gotten it back? The man who spent sleepless nights tending me when I was sick, soothing away my nightmares, who spent countless miserable hours trying to teach me to read when all I wanted to do was give up? Who took my pain away when I was injured, and helped me learn to accept my cybernetic arm? Who is always there when I need him to be? The man who jumps when I tell him to take a leap of faith, and trusts me to catch him where his own power runs out?_

_Because he does._

_He does trust me._

He'd seen the moment in those blue eyes when fear was met by will and Obi-Wan stepped into something he knew he couldn't survive on his own, because Anakin swore he would make up the difference.

So many, many times on Lanteeb, then again through this wretched war...

A hazy memory resurfaced, one of the collection that he usually tried to push away and ignore because they  _hurt_ too much.

The fevered hours after Anakin had lost his arm. Obi-Wan holding him close, silent tears slipping down his face.

_“I'm so sorry, Anakin. I should have listened to your dreams; I should have known. Dear Force, I am sorry.”_

_You wanted so desperately to raise me right, and you tried so hard. But I never forgave you for Mom's death._

_I never forgave you for trying to pace my growth the way another Padawan's would be, though I always said I wanted to be treated the same as everyone else._

_I never forgave you for not being Qui-Gon Jinn._

“No,” Anakin murmured, his voice choked with feeling, “You're right, Ahsoka. He's never done anything to deserve it, but at every turn I expect him to try to harm me.”

Ahsoka shook her head, leaning back to peer up at him. “Why?”  
“Because he wasn't the one I wanted.”

_I never forgave you for surviving when Qui-Gon Jinn died. That's where all of this started. Not when you expressed fear of my power— no, I'd felt that myself— but when you walked back out of that power generator and Qui-Gon did not._

Ahsoka looked confused. “I don't understand.”  
“His master promised to train me. But then he died.”

_Ahsoka called us her dads. Could Obi-Wan have felt that way about Qui-Gon?_

_Does he..._

Know  _how I felt about Mom when I couldn't save her? When if I'd just been a little faster, a little stronger—_

He thought back to the security footage he'd sliced into Obi-Wan's redacted file to see.

_Yes. He does._

“The first Sith in a thousand years,” Ahsoka murmured.

_A nightmare from tales told to younglings._

Ahsoka watched Obi-Wan's silent face for a moment. “Is that why he looks so sad sometimes, when he thinks no one's looking?”

“One reason.”  _And seventeen years' separation from the woman he loves._

_And a war that's killing his people, Jedi and clones alike. A war led by_ his  _dad's father._

_No, Snips. What's amazing is not that he carries a great sadness inside. What's amazing is that he smiles at us with such love and humor on most days. Force, and to think I nearly broke what little joy he has..._

“What are we going to do?” Ahsoka's eyes sought his again.

Anakin shook his head. “I don't know, Ahsoka. Whatever it takes.”

 

 


End file.
